In The Mourning
by gloss my eyes
Summary: An unexpected death leaves Kurama destroyed, and Hiei has fled - leaving Yusuke to pick up the pieces in hopes of putting them all back together once again. [Yaoi, Angst, Post-canon.]
1. Chapter 1

**Warning** : Hello! This story will contain elements of angst, foul language a plenty, mentions of suicide and character death, and later on, sexual content. In this chapter however, it's mostly just the language. :x

 **Disclaimer** : Title cred goes to the song of the same name by Paramore, which is really the accompanying song of this fic - go listen! And for the (obvious) record, I don't own YYH.

* * *

There was something inherently surreal about stepping into Kurama's house - not simply because it hadn't happened since nearly three years prior. Crossing the threshold of the front door, in fact, felt something like stumbling through the looking glass or toppling down a rabbit hole where up was down, purple cats talked in riddles and snide caterpillars puffed letters drawn in hookah smoke.

Only instead of Wonderland, Yusuke had come across a wasteland.

Shoes cluttered the entry hall, each one avoided by careful steps on Yusuke'a part. The narrow hall opened up into the living room, which was strewn hapzardly with clothes - some crumpled on the floor, others thrown carelessly over the back of a black leather sofa. Every inch of the wooden coffee table tucked in front of it stood covered in crinkled documents and half-emptied mugs of stale coffee.

The dirtied white carpet bled into tile to the right of him, where the creak of a chair alerted Yusuke to another presence. Slumped over the dining table pathetically sat the man - well, demon - he'd come all this way to see. His arms were folded across the worn cherry wood, creating a lean nest for a crimson-topped head to rest upon as if to hide from sun dappling through the kitchen window.

"Kurama," Yusuke said, and winced - he'd promised himself he wouldn't sound pitying but failed nonetheless.

And the creature hijacking his friend's body deserved to be pitied, perhaps. The once-tan hands of the kitsune were sallowed, and even from where he was standing Yusuke could tell that the man's frame had thinned too much; his clothes, a simple mauve sweater and dark jeans, sagged around his body.

Sluggishly, Kurama raised his head to meet Yusuke's concerned gaze. Small thrills of fear jolted up down the Toushin's spine when he saw the lifeless sheen spoiling the jade of Kurama's brilliant eyes, not to mention the deep purple shadows beneath them. His once silky hair looked matted and dull, framing his too-thin face and sticking to the sweaty column of the man's neck.

The fox cleared his throat once, and whispered a hoarse "hello."

Yusuke took that as his informal cue to sit so he padded forward, pulled back a stray chair close by his friend and plopped down, shucking his bag to the floor - then regretted it immediately as the stink of strong liquor assaulted his nose. Warm brown eyes darted around, glimpsing trash littering the marble counters here and there, before landing on the translucent glass near the edge of the table filled to the brim with thick, amber spirit. The long, thick-cut bottle stood by its side, nearly empty.

"Makai liquor," slurred Kurama, tipping his wobbly head in the direction of the cup. "It's akin to drinking gasoline, I imagine, but it's practical enough for my purposes."

"You're coping well then, I see." No real bite coated his words, only concern, dripping like honey from every syllable. "Have you been eating? Kuwabara said he dropped off some groceries yesterday."

A flicker of warmth from behind flat, sullen green gave Yusuke's heart a little rush of hope, but it was gone before it even had a chance to spark into something like life.

"He's a good friend, Kuwabara," Kurama deflected, predictably. "So are you. How are your children? It must've been difficult to leave them to travel this far out of the city."

Crossing his arms over his chest Yusuke huffed, shooting the fox a knowing look. Still, he picked up the segue with no verbal complaint, unwilling to push his friend too hard so soon. "The kids are fine. Little hellions, but you can bet your ass that Keiko has them under control. I see them every weekend so you don't have to feel guilty about taking me away from them or something. It's Tuesday."

With a blank face, Kurama gave a jerky nod. "And the divorce? Is it finalized?"

A jab of anger stole the Toushin's breath away - a sore subject had just been breached, but he forced himself to swallow the venom thickening his tongue.

"I'm not here to talk about my issues, man." Yusuke leaned forward against the edge of the table, sure to catch the unfocused, bleary gaze of his friend before he continued, "I'm here to talk some sense into you."

A twitch of a smirk met his statement; a tightening of wary eyes. "Are you?" Kurama drawled, tipping his body forward as well. The putrid smell of alcoholic breath fanned across Yusuke's face, crinkling his nose, but he did not retreat. "You always did have quite a way with words."

"I also have a way with my fists, but you know that too."

Vile, hollow laughter bit at Yusuke's ears and he had to wonder, who was this man? He'd known Kurama for 16 years now. Maybe they had never been particularly close, maybe he'd never even really _seen_ the true spirit behind the guise of his many masks, but this man? It simply could not be Kurama. He was an imposter. A fraud. An empty husk of skin wearing the face of a strong, beautiful man who had saved his life on more than one occasion.

If he was who he truly should have been right now, untouched by crippling grief, he would have still been beautiful. Even age couldn't rob him of that, human shell or otherwise.

The laughter had twisted into small, uneven hiccups, which might have been rather cute if not for the dribble of saliva that snuck past the plush parting of Kurama's lips. Sighing softly, Yusuke reached out and dabbed it away with the sleeve of his light Spring jacket, watching a patch of the green fabric darken with spit.

Kurama turned his head away, suddenly ashamed. "I don't need your coddling," he whispered distantly. "You should have stayed away. You belong with your children. Your...family." His breath hitched at the tail end of his sentence, eyes stained dark with grief.

The dark-haired man extended a hand to place gently on the redhead's shoulder. He wanted to avoid bringing this up just yet, but the words tumbled from his tongue despite his better judgement: "She wouldn't want you living this way, Kurama."

A cold, hard glare fixed him in place as the fox jerked his shoulder away roughly.

"Don't," Kurama hissed, bristling on the edge of despair. "Don't speak of her."

Before Yusuke could take an opportunity to apologize Kurama had the glass of alcohol in the grasp of his shaking fingers. He poured half the liquid down his throat, every feature of his face distorted by disgust while he retched on it, then forced himself to down the rest.

The glass slipped from his hand to the floor, shattering in a symphony of twinkling notes. Yusuke could guess the only thing keeping the kitsune from vomiting was sharp teeth clenched down on the soft pink flesh of his quivering bottom lip.

"It's okay," the Toushin said gently, "if you puke. I'll clean it up."

Kurama flinched; shook his head. Yusuke waited for what seemed like endless minutes, watching for the inevitable loss of control. He hoped the fox would at least have the sense to lurch towards the floor to yak instead of aspirating on the dinner table.

Instead splotches of red rose to the fox's otherwise pasty cheeks, finally releasing his bottom lip with another soft hiccup once he seemed sure he wouldn't lose his drink.

"I'm fine," he whispered in a haunted voice that sounded anything but fine. "I just needed a moment to collect my bearings, that is all." Peering at Yusuke with heavy, glazed eyes he asked, "how old are your children now? Haven't seen them in years."

"Kenji is nine, Kai is seven. But like I said before, I didn't take two buses and hike twelve miles just to chat about my fucking life with you, Kurama. I could have done that over the phone. Not that you answer it half the time."

Kurama leaned back into his chair, sporting a helpless smile that didn't color his eyes with anything but sadness. "I apologize. I would have answered if I had known it would have spared you the trip."

"I would've come anyway," Yusuke growled. He, too, sat back, glaring menacingly at a spot of sticky residue on the far corner of table. It was going to take him ages to clean this place up.

Just like it took him ages to get out here. The house itself was a quaint, two-story cottage, tucked in near the edge of the forest. He surmised that's why the fox picked it after all - lots of land for a garden of fresh greenery to tend to along with a forest to wander. Three years ago the house had emanated a warm, homey feel and the trek into the countryside hadn't bothered him (Keiko's car also might have had something to do with it).

Now it felt rather like a tomb.

When Yusuke broke away from his thoughts to regard Kurama, the fox was slumping terribly against the table again, his frail body unwilling to hold him upright any longer. Yusuke let out a long sigh of breath and reached for his large black gym back, hulking it up onto the table with a hearty 'thunk.'

Kurama didn't jump. Didn't move.

Panic rose like bile in his throat and commandeered his body - before he was aware of his movements he was striking out with nimble fingers, nudging the fox's shoulder with force.

"Nnngh...quit that, Hiei."

And just like that, Yusuke's heart dropped like a stone into the deepest pit of his stomach. Hiei. He should have been here - why hadn't that clicked before? Why hadn't he thought about it?

Where the _fuck_ was Hiei?

"Last time I saw Hiei was here, remember?" The memory burbled up from the depths of his mind, illuminating his eyes with a sort of nostalgic fondness. "Three years ago when Keiko and I brought the kids out for a visit. Kenji wouldn't stop grabbing for his hair." And surprisingly, Hiei hadn't said a word against it. He had been his same old grumpy self but softer somehow, more content.

Yusuke had kinda figured that to be Kurama's doing.

The Toushin prodded at Kurama's shoulder again until the man lifted his head, face pinched in pain but otherwise unreadable.

"Where is he now?"

"Who?" the redhead asked, drunkenly stupid. Unbelievable.

"Fuckin' Koenma." Kurama blinked at his sarcasm, opened his mouth to speak, then shut it once Yusuke snapped, " _Hiei_ , dumbass! Where is Hiei? Shouldn't he be here to help you through this?"

It was amazing how quickly Kurama sobered at the namesake, going from a slobbery, heaping mess to a hard statue of ice.

 _Good_ , Yusuke thought. _At least he looks more like himself when he's pissed._

If the Toushin had expected anything more than a vague answer, he would have been disappointed.

"He...left," Kurama slurred, eyes flashing dark and dangerous for a fraction of a second. "I don't suppose I need to ask that you please not speak of him, either."

Yusuke wanted to argue about it, to tell him he couldn't avoid his feelings forever, but this was a page from his own book, repression at its finest. How could he say those things without being a complete hypocrite? He, too, had subjects he'd rather not elaborate on, held tight and secure in his heart.

And if Kurama wouldn't talk about it while absolutely trashed, how could he get him to open up when he got sober?

Defeatedly, the Toushin took his head in his hands and groaned. He knew before even traveling out here that this wouldn't come easy - firmly the opposite, in fact. He just wished so fiercely that it hadn't come to this. Kurama, brilliant, beautiful, powerful _Kurama_ , taken down to this level by the untimely death of one human woman?

A quiet snuffle caught his attention and he blanched, expecting to witness the unflappable fox finally broken down into tears - but no, he remained a blank slate, staring dumbly out into the ether without a glimmer of emotion touching him.

Tiredly - not from the walk, just from bearing witness to this _mess_ \- Yusuke stood, shuffling to the counter and clearing away the debris cluttered by the stove (empty liquor bottles mostly, with the occasional untouched takeout carton). He had to scavenge around a bit for a boiling pot; no dishes sat unwashed in the sink, but he didn't know where Kurama kept his pots and pans.

When he found one he filled it with water and set it on the stove to boil over a warming burner. Then he turned to his pack and retrieved the basic ingredients for a decent stew he'd brought with him on a whim, deciding that even if Kuwabara had stopped by just yesterday the food could be sitting at the bottom of the trashcan for all he knew.

He was halfway through chopping up carrots to add to the broth when a ghostly whisper of a voice caressed his ear - Kurama, asking him what he could possibly be doing.

"I'm making you some food, idiot. Don't worry, I won't burn your house down. I know how to cook."

"But - why are you - what are you _really_ doing here, Yusuke? You have...a bag." Rays of fear, suspicion and confusion shone through the cracks of his muddled words.

Yusuke paused to twist around, not surprised at all to see that Kurama had turned his head to stare at him incredulously. When their gazes brushed, Yusuke flashed him a smug grin.

"I'm moving in."

* * *

 **A/N:**

So! Last night this plot hit me full force and I had no other choice but to start it - it's going to be angsty, but hopefully not too out of character on Kurama's part (don't hesitate to tell me if he is, even in this chapter). Hiei will be a major element of the story as well, eventually. Anything not touched upon as of yet - Yusuke's divorce, how Shiori died, what happened between Hiei and Kurama - will all be revealed in due time. So if you want to see more or just tell me how bad this is, please don't hesitate to leave me a review!

Until next time!


	2. Chapter 2

_"I'm moving in."_

Somewhere in the back of his foggy mind, a dim awareness of his expression broke through. It had been hard to tell these past few minutes - trying to ignore the feelings Yusuke let in with him when he walked through that door - to keep up with himself. The alcohol had numbed him, body and mind, so it was alarming to realize how severe a pose his face had taken to all at once.

Wide doe-eyes, flushed cheeks, mouth gaping like a fish on a hook - he must have looked so surprised. Kurama _felt_ it too, though he'd been trying very hard not to feel anything at this point.

"You...I - how can you...?"

Before, he'd been able to step past his inebriation to a degree. After all, he had a sharp mind, not so easily doused stupid with even the strongest of spirits.

Now, though, his own voice sounded painfully slow, confused, tongue thick with the drink. He reeled, trying to grab at the right words; he knew they were there, _always_ , even in the most dire of circumstances. He could talk his way out of anything.

All he could settle upon this time, however, was a pathetically mumbled "I don't understand."

Yusuke's grin only widened, taking on a proud edge in stumping the once-brilliant strategist. "I'm living here with you until you're better. Kuwabara and I decided that yesterday after he came over here and saw what a shithole this place has turned into." He paused, dark brows furrowing together in consideration, before adding "and you look like hell, Kurama. If we leave you alone out here you'll probably die."

That, Kurama could not argue with. He hadn't looked in the mirror for days; hadn't had the strength to.

Yusuke, on the other hand, looked heavenly. Tall, broad, sculpted - every bit a raven-haired god in his own right, one worth worshiping. A thin green jacket covered his lean shoulders over a loose white T-shirt, while skintight bluejeans clung to his muscular legs. His fashion sense hadn't changed much, but then again, neither had his face save for a few laugh lines. One thing, however, had not remained the same.

"You don't slick back your hair anymore." It seemed like the right thing to say after staring at the man for what felt like hours. His attention span was short these days, anyway - he'd already casted aside his confusion in favor of examining his long lost friend.

Yusuke snorted a shy laugh, fingering away dark strands of hair hanging loose in front of his bright eyes. "Yeah, well, things gotta change sometimes, right? It gets annoying so I try to keep it short."

"It...suits you. I can hardly tell any time has passed when I look at you," Kurama admitted.

Something foul simmered beneath the surface of warm brown, but Yusuke kept his tone light when he countered, "Well Mr. Skin-and-Bones, when I look at _you_ I can't seem to forget that it has. So we're gonna fix that."

He turned back to finish their meal then, leaving Kurama to his own devices for a short time. In this state, there wasn't much he could do aside from slump against the table and brood quietly.

He must have dozed off, because the next sensation he noticed was a gentle hand on his shoulder, shaking him into dull consciousness.

His automatic response spilled from his lips before he could close them: "Hiei?"

A tense silence answered Kurama before Yusuke awkwardly scuffed his sneakers against the tile, muttering something about dinner. Then the clank of a bowl being set in front of him paired with the smoky aroma of cooked meat and vegetables finally enticed him to lift his weary head.

The kitchen spun in a dizzying whirl of colors around him, dragging him to the edge of motion sickness; the warm hand on his shoulder tightened, thumbing soothing circles into his collarbone.

"Don't lift your head so fast, you're gonna make yourself sick," Yusuke chastised, waiting until Kurama could sit up without tipping over before releasing him.

The bowl was slid closer to him by a tentative hand; Yusuke leaned down to his ear, murmuring encouraging words about regaining his strength and soaking up some of the alcohol in his system. It was the voice of a father, Kurama decided, and a good one - kind, patient, fair.

"You must be a wonderful father," he blurted, daring to peak up through his lashes if only to witness the lovely pride painting Yusuke's face.

"I try. Now eat."

Something cool and metal was forced into his hand - a spoon, he registered belatedly. His grip was weak at best and wobbly at worst, and his first attempt to bring a mouthful of stew to his lips ended in disaster.

Yusuke chuckled, already dabbing at the mess he'd made on his sweater with a napkin. "Don't look at me like that," the Toushin said in reaction to the horrified expression that crossed Kurama's face. "You don't have to be embarrassed; I have two kids, remember?"

The redhead scowled, turning his head away petulantly yet doing nothing to hinder Yusuke's blotting. "I am _not_ a child."

"No," he agreed, "you're drunk. Which is almost the same thing, gotta say."

Yusuke finished wiping at his front, snatching the spoon away from Kurama's shaking grasp and dipping it into the stew. "I took care of Atsuko when I was young, you know. She drank a lot, too."

The haze blanketing his mind cleared for a fraction of a moment, long enough for Kurama to understand why Yusuke had referred to his own mother by her first name.

"I don't need you to take care of me," the redhead snapped agitatedly, refusing to take the spoonful of food Yusuke had carefully lifted towards his lips. "You think I've survived all these years by relying on anyone other than myself? Ignorant _child_."

If he offended the Toushin in any way, his tone offered him no clues. "There's a first time for everything, man." Endlessly patient, Yusuke pressed the spoon right up against the kitsune's bottom lip until Kurama finally relented and allowed it to hit his tongue.

Slightly spicy, warm, and every bit as delicious as it smelled. Yusuke made a pleased noise, then fed him another bite.

"Maybe I _am_ a child in your eyes," the other man said after the third spoonful, "but right now you're in no condition to do anything other than land yourself six feet under the ground, and I didn't save your ass at least twice to let you die this way. So you'll just have to put up with it."

A fourth spoonful; Kurama swallowed hard.

"And if I can't? If I'd rather die?"

Unflinchingly Yusuke replied, "then you'll have to fight me every step of the way. And we both know how stubborn I am." He took a moment to wipe away a speck of food plastered to the corner of Kurama's lip. "You wanna die, you'll have to kill me to do it."

The dreadful image of Yusuke lying cold and unmoving on the floor of his living room drenched in blood broke through the haze, hitting him hard and heavy - more than enough to crush the last vestiges of Kurama's control. The last thing he remembered before darkness set in like a dark, velvet drape over his eyes was the thick, acrid taste of vomit spilling from his lips and chasing away any remnants of Yusuke's delicious stew.

* * *

As per usual, the first thing Kurama awoke to was pain.

His temples throbbed drumbeats of agony along his cranium, signaling dehydration. His eyes stung at even the dim light of a lamp when he slivered open his lids. Every joint in his body shrieked in protest as he tried to sit up, mostly due to a general lack of activity or stimulation and perhaps also because of malnutrition.

The heaviest of pains, however, sat like concrete in his chest, right where his heart beat on relentlessly.

"You shouldn't try to move too much yet."

The gentle waves of Yusuke's voice lapped softly against Kurama's ears, though he still flinched away. His bloodshot eyes had not quite adjusted but from the sound of it, Yusuke stood somewhere nearby, close to his head.

"What...happened?" he asked, struggling to force out the words around a thick tongue.

A weight shifted on the surface where Kurama lay - the sofa, his fried brain registered finally - near his feet. Kurama blinked at the blob a total of three times before his vision cleared and he could finally make out the startlingly concerned face of his friend.

"You passed out after you puked," Yusuke told him succinctly. "I caught you before you fell but I'm pretty sure you banged your head kinda hard on the table."

Sure enough, as soon as the wound was mentioned his forehead erupted in vindictive pain. He cringed.

"How...long have I...been out?"

The man's shoulders rolled in a shrug. "Haven't really kept track. You've been in and out for probably two hours, if I had to guess. Had to keep making sure you weren't dead. You could be concussed for all I know." The man swiped a finger under his nose and flashed a tight smile. "I thought about dragging you to a hospital but I didn't think you'd appreciate it very much. They wouldn't let you leave looking like you do."

A shiver ran down the kitsune's spine, bringing attention to the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt. Or pants. In fact, the only thing he felt covering his skin aside from a thin blanket was boxer shorts.

"My clothes?" he inquired, relieved when the words flowed more easily from thought to mouth.

"Hanging to dry. They were...spoiled, so I did some laundry. That's all I really had time for though, between cleaning up the puke and making sure you still had a pulse." Yusuke laughed nervously, patting at one of Kurama's covered legs. "Freaked me out at first, 'cos I forgot you're supposed to have a steady one."

For the first time in he didn't even know how long, a brilliant warmth took root in his heart and rushed through his bloodstream. Yusuke had cleaned up his vomit, tucked him in, and probably had worried himself sick watching over him for hours.

"Yusuke..." He could hear the tears lurking beneath the tone of a shattered man. How he'd ever allowed himself to become his way, he'd never truly understand.

His friend seemed to, however. His face awash in a glow of understanding, Yusuke raised a hand against any further speech on Kurama's part. "You don't have to thank me. Just seeing you get better will be thanks enough, okay?"

And Kurama knew that if anything else was said on the matter, the walls of his heart would cave in and he would not be able to stop his fragile, human emotions from taking free reign.

So with a weak smile, he nodded.

* * *

After his stomach settled enough and the room stopped turning on its side, Kurama sat at the dinner table with yet another bowl of stew placed in front of him. He had assured Yusuke several times over that he most likely was not concussed and would be fine without medical attention, and eventually Yusuke backed off - with the condition that Kurama actually made an effort to consume a decent meal.

But Kurama was a master of compromise, so beside the stew loomed a tall glass of Makai liquor that sipped at every minute, practically on the dot. Yusuke brooded beside him with his attention devoted to his own food, only broken by the occasional glare at Kurama's choice of beverage.

"The stew is delicious. I meant to say that earlier," Kurama started conversationally.

Yususke was having none of that, apparently. He grunted once in response, stopped eating to glare at the glass of booze again, then resumed spooning at his dinner.

Kurama huffed, scooping up another mouthful of his own. "If you're going to be staying here I hope you'll be more conversational than this," the kitsune grumbled once he'd swallowed.

"Cut the shit," his friend spat, "I'm not in the mood for small talk."

Sensing the presence of an uncomfortable topic looming on the horizon of Yusuke's thoughts, Kurama diverted tactics. He reached out with a tender hand to brush dark tendrils of hair away from those beautiful brown eyes and husked his voice low when he asked, "what _are_ you in the mood for then, if I may ask?"

He knew it was a mistake as the hard line of Yusuke's mouth curled into a snarl and his eyes darkened with hurt. "Not being fucked with, that's for sure. I'm going for a walk. Don't choke on your fucking soup while I'm gone."

The chair cried out against the tile unpleasantly when Yusuke rose, kicking it on its side like a raging hurricane. And then hurricane Yusuke swept away, cursing and slamming doors in his wake.

Kurama, left cold and alone, downed the rest of his glass in one long gulp.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Bleak, I know. But it will get better eventually! Thank you to my lovely reviewer, whose feedback always makes me smile, and to those of you who faved and/or followed - I'd certainly like to hear from more of you! Updates will likely be sporadic between life and the two other stories I'm working on, but today this story refused to be set aside, so here we have chapter two. I know it doesn't divulge too much information, but really Kurama is still very emotionally fragile and unable to cope. Next time will be from Yusuke's POV; I will be switching every chapter.

Thanks again to all those that read my silly little stories! Until next time!


	3. Chapter 3

Tromping around the side of the house, past the half-dead backyard garden, Yusuke entered the forest with his whole body trembling in quiet rage.

It was bad enough already, the situation. Kurama had lost his mother, had lost his best friend (probably more than that, but they were so fucking secretive Yusuke couldn't be certain), and apparently would rather drink himself stupid than do anything productive or helpful at this point.

On top of that, Yusuke had two kids to worry about. Two young boys who, despite the brave faces they wore every time they saw him, were probably scared to death over their parents splitting up. Scared to death that maybe he would split on _them_ , like his deadbeat dad before him.

It didn't help that Keiko wouldn't even look him in the eyes anymore, but that was a damnable path he wouldn't let his thoughts trek down, not when this new issue took precedence.

'Kurama hitting on him' wasn't something he expected to tack onto the list of fucked up things he'd have to endure during his stay, after all. It took the cake, was the cherry on top of a shit sundae, what-the-fuck-ever, it didn't matter what he called it - it was unappreciated all the same.

It had him so distressed, in fact, that as soon as he felt like he stood deep enough in the forest to go unnoticed, he raised his index finger and let off a low-power spirit gun in no particular direction. The shot cracked loud against the bark of a tree, setting loose a brilliant explosion of splintering wood.

It felt good to let loose a little, maybe even cathartic, so Yusuke raised his hand again, took aim -

"What did the trees ever do to you, detective?"

\- and nearly jumped out of his skin when the low rumble of Hiei's voice hit his ears. He spun on instinct towards the source, and stood staring dumbly in shock at the last person he ever expected to see again.

Hiei.

In the forest.

Behind Kurama's house.

That. Little. _Shit_.

Or not so little, Yusuke amended. Over the course of sixteen years, Hiei had managed a growth spurt or two, and his glare now leveled Yusuke's chin at the very least.

"What in the _fuck_ are you _doing_ out here?" he demanded, and if he sounded the slightest bit hostile who could really blame him?

Fading evening rays of dusky gold peeked through the canopy of trees above them, allowing Yusuke just enough light to catch the small shrug of tight shoulders and the faintest trace of weariness ghosting across the planes of Hiei's otherwise stoic countenance. The black cloak he always wore clung to him bodily, doing little to hide the fact that his compact muscles were coiled tight with tension.

If Yusuke didn't know any better, he'd wager that Hiei was upset. He'd also wager that he knew what was upsetting him.

"It's him, isn't it?" the Toushin croaked out, swallowing down the lump forming steadily in his throat. "You're checking up on him. Making sure he isn't dead."

Outright denial, he expected. What he didn't expect was a soft "maybe" that carried over with the wind, so faint he could almost believe he imagined it.

"Well _shit_. If you're admitting it, then things must be bad. What the hell happened between the two of you?"

Hiei's eyes narrowed into angry, gleaming slivers of bloody red. "He hasn't told you? How interesting. Perhaps that's because it's none of your concern."

Scoffing, Yusuke crossed his arms over his chest and did his best to mimic the fire demon's admittedly impressive glare.

"It became my _concern_ when I had to drag my ass into the fuckin' boonies to make sure he doesn't kill himself out here, which is something I think ordinarily would be _your_ job. And you know what? I'm gonna _keep_ doing your damn job while you prance around the fuckin' forest pretending you don't give two shits about him anymore."

Just when the anger he'd set aside in favor of surprise had started to simmer low in his belly yet again, Hiei tossed a metaphorical ice cold bucket of water Yusuke's way when he opened his mouth and said, with disdain Yusuke could taste, "Kurama _ordered_ me away. If anyone doesn't care, it's him."

The world shook in the wake of his confession, almost - but then Yusuke realized it was just his own trembling, and not from the cold. He hiked his jacket up on his shoulders anyway, mouth too dry to say a word. Hiei willfully giving up any information was too surreal; he halfway expected a rabbit in a red waistcoat to pitter by, mumbling incoherently about being late.

Or maybe someone would come the fuck out with it and tell him what was going on. Maybe Botan would glide in on her oar and tell him how to fix it all. He should give her a call; she was good with this kinda crap.

Or, maybe, the world would finally just crumble and collapse around him and he wouldn't have to worry about any of this shit anymore.

A guy could only be so lucky.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of listening to the rustling of the wind through the budding trees and slowly going mad, Yusuke said, distantly, "and you just let him kick you out?"

A derisive snort rifled through the space between them. "What would you have me do? Grovel at his feet like a pitiful fool? He made his choice, and I made the choice to respect his decision."

And Yusuke knew somehow, even without the slightest inflection in the demon's tone, that it was killing him. It was killing him to be here, to watch from afar while he wanted so desperately to be where Yusuke was, while Kurama rotted from the inside out. It was killing him to not be able to do anything about it. It was killing him to even _care_ at this point, probably. The Toushin had never been all that close with either of them, but the demon's whole body radiated a quiet agony.

"I've been spending too much time with Kuwabara," Yusuke mentioned offhandedly, trying to scrub his thoughts clean of Hiei's pain. The last thing he needed was another person's weight on him when he could hardly even shoulder his own.

And Kuwabara understood that better than anyone. He had this way about him sometimes, like emotions were a tangible thing to his eyes that he could see on you as easy as colors. Yusuke had never been any good at that, but maybe after so long it had started to rub off.

That, or just the fact that Yusuke had been thinking a lot about his own feelings lately made it less difficult to spot misery painted on someone else's face.

He kicked off the ground with a twirl, heading in the direction of a fallen tree to brood on. Hiei, suprisingly, followed him at the heels, waiting for the Toushin to take a mossy seat on the log before he settled onto one of his own close by.

"Are you going to tell him you saw me?" the demon asked, hugging one knee close to his chest. He wasn't looking even remotely near Yusuke; rather, his gaze was fixed almost longingly on the trail that led back to the house.

 _Just fucking break my heart why don't you,_ Yusuke thought tiredly. Already he was sick of seeing his friends like this and it was only day one. Who even knew how long he would be here?

Blowing his bangs out of his face, he shrugged. "Nah. He probably wouldn't believe me if I tried. Aren't you masking your energy or something? I didn't feel you around."

"I'm not advertising it," the fire demon answered coolly, "but if he tried hard enough, he'd sense me. He isn't looking."

Something brushed against Yusuke's shoulder, and only belatedly did he register how close they were actually sitting - so close that every time Hiei moved, their shoulders rubbed together. Once he got over the initial shock of the demon willfully sitting that close to him, it wasn't bad, actually.

It felt kind of nice to have a brother in arms at odds with the pain of heartbreak.

And on that pitiful note, Yusuke decided he needed to get something off his chest. Hiei wouldn't care, probably, but at least he would be heard.

"Keiko and I are splitting up," he admitted, closing his eyes to the world. For just one pure, blissful moment, all he knew was Hiei. The sensation of the demon's heat against his shoulder, even through his windbreaker, was grounding somehow. "She's getting primary custody of the boys. They'll be here on weekends with me while I'm staying; Kuwabara is gonna bring them up."

Hiei snorted; an almost-laugh. "You trust that oaf with your children?"

"More than I trust _her_ to bring 'em," Yusuke returned, trying futilely not to grit his teeth. "Besides, he's hauling up food and supplies, too. I'd have him just switch with me and watch Kurama instead but the last time he was here, there was this...incident, I guess you'd call it. Scared him half to death."

Hiei said nothing, but the tightened muscles of his shoulder told Yusuke that he already knew.

"You were around?" the man guessed. His lids peeled apart just in time to witness the other give one shake of his head.

"No. The oaf told me about it."

The Toushin blinked at him, surprised. "How? This just happened yesterday."

Hiei's eyes grew tight as he spat out, like it pained him to even admit it, "I was the one who asked him to come in the first place." The shoulder pressed against the Toushin shuddered.

Yusuke wanted to sling an arm across those burdened shoulders, but Hiei would probably sooner skin him alive. Instead he nudged the other with his elbow, mustering up the closest thing to a smile he could manage.

Only it was something like elbowing a stone statue, and all encouraging words died on his tongue; Hiei, rigid, sat with red eyes burning wild, aimed in the direction of Kurama's home.

"Go," the fire demon choked out, desperately, " _now_."

And it only took him about half a second to obey. Yusuke had sprinted more than halfway to the door when he realized how badly he already missed Hiei's shoulder pressed against his.

No time to dwell on that, though, not when he had more urgent matters to attend to.

Specifically, finding Kurama curled up on the dining room floor, fingers wrapped so tightly around a rather large shard of broken glass that blood dripped freely to the tile like bright red rain.

"Stop!" Yusuke shouted, wrenching away the jagged piece of the cup that had shattered earlier from the kitsune's grasp. "The hell is the matter with you?" He assessed the wound quickly and found that it wasn't too deep - not deep enough to need stitches, but plenty enough to bleed all over the fuckin' place.

Kurama said nothing as the other man helped him stand and washed out his wound; he said nothing as Yusuke barged around the house in another stunning rendition of a hurricane, shouting and scavenging for bandages; he said nothing as Yusuke poured alcohol over the wound to sterilize it before finally wrapping up the cut.

He made absolutely no noise until the Toushin finally sat him down on the couch. The fox had been so silent, in fact, that when he gasped in a ragged breath Yusuke actually flinched.

"What is it?" he asked the redhead worriedly. "Are you hurting?"

He dared to peer down into the emerald abysses that Kurama called eyes, startled to find them bright and alive with absolute _fury_.

And then, using six simple words, Kurama tilted Yusuke's world on its axis for the umpteenth time that day.

"Why do you smell like Hiei?"

* * *

 **A/N:**

Hello, all. Sorry for the wait on this one, but I hope Hiei's appearance makes up for it a little. :x I'm on a major Hiei/Yusuke kick right now so the two got a little bonding time in, and trust me, he will be back! This fic was originally intended to be Yus/Kur but, it will probably end up more like a messy, twisted love triangle if my muses get their way. Thanks to all for the reviews and follows/favs, it always makes my day to see that someone enjoys my little projects!

Until next time, friends.


	4. Chapter 4

**Trigger Warning:** Gore in the first scene. Might be squicky for some.

* * *

Blood - everywhere.

Stagnant red covered him from head to toe, fat drops crusted in his hair, his face, his clothes, and everywhere in between. He could hardly breathe around the coppery aroma that filled his nose, forcing itself down into his throat so that he nearly choked on the taste.

"What a shame," said the sorrowed voice of his mother. He wiped furiously at his eyes with his left hand, hoping to clear his vision to glance at her beautiful face. "That's your best suit. I was hoping you'd wear it to my funeral, Shuichi."

His own blood, flowing relentlessly through his veins, ran cold at her words.

He blinked away the rest of the blurriness at last, green eyes roving frantically in their sockets before he spotted her lying on her back at his feet.

She smiled at him softly, not a care in the world despite the massive hole in her chest where her heart should have been.

"W-where...where is your - "

"It's with you, son. It will always be with you."

Something in his right hand twitched and stuttered, drawing his horrified attention. There in his palm, beating weakly, gushing blood, sat her heart.

* * *

It was the screaming that woke him-not his own, though Kurama had a feeling he'd been about to scream, in his dream or otherwise.

Drenched in sweat, panting hard, the fox slowly sat up in his bed and palmed his face in one hand, allowing the tension to drain from his trembling body. That had not been the first dream of her, and it would likely not be the last, but each time it was like the wound in his heart over her loss split deeper still. Eventually, he surmised, it might just break in two.

But today was not that day.

Another sudden scream made him flinch, and though it did not sound like a scream of terror, Kurama felt the need to search out the source with his own eyes.

Gathering his strength the fox swung his feet off the bed and stood, wrapping his forest green robe tighter against his pallid skin. He felt cold, despite the sweat, and considered grabbing his blanket as well before the third scream, high and shrill, brought his attention back to the matter at hand.

He wasn't sure what he expected when he opened the door to his bedroom and made his way through the hall and down the stairs, but it certainly wasn't to find Yusuke holding a small brunet upside down by the ankle in the middle of the living room. He blinked comically, opening his mouth to speak; however, the youngster noticed him beforehand and beat him to it.

"Uncle Kurama!" squealed the boy, tiny face overtaken by a wide grin. "You're awake!"

Yusuke, who had frozen solid at the sound of his name, recovered quickly and tossed him a sheepish grin, swinging the boy gently up into his arms so he could set him down. "Sorry, man, didn't mean to wake you. Kai gets his big mouth from me."

Kai Urameshi, with his feet finally upon solid ground, waved so enthusiastically his little body shook. His warm eyes, more reminiscent of Keiko's light brown than anything else, sparkled with delight at his father's words. Yusuke was obviously his hero and being compared to him tickled him pink.

"It's perfectly all right," Kurama replied, attempting a smile that teetered more towards a grimace. "I would have awoken soon anyway, on my own." It wasn't even a lie, really, though he did omit the fact that he would have woken up screaming out for his mother.

The memory of the nightmare darkened his tired eyes, which did not go unnoticed by Yusuke. Kurama could tell he wanted to ask about it judging by his tense stance, and perhaps he would have if his son wasn't looking up at him with a wide, questioning gaze.

"Daddy, can we have breakfast now that Uncle Kurama is awake?" the child pleaded, reaching to tug at the hem of his father's shirt with his small hand.

Yusuke spent a few more seconds carefully studying Kurama's face before he clapped his hands together once, making the other two jump nervously, gaping at him.

Wearing his best shit eating grin, Yusuke said, "sure, squirt! Breakfast it is! Why don't you catch up with Uncle Kurama while I start." With a wink at Kurama's withering face, he turned on his heel and retreated to the kitchen to prepare their meal.

Some moments thereafter, Kurama curled up on farthest side of the couch he could away from the boy on the middle cushion, uncomfortable under his shining gaze. It had been much easier to interact with Kai when he'd been younger, less aware. Young as he still was, Kurama could tell that those eyes now looked upon him with deep, unwavering sympathy. He shivered a little, vacantly watching the papers on his coffee table flutter with the breeze from the open window.

"Here," said Kai, suddenly closer than before. A soft blanket was draped over his shoulders and Kurama sighed softly, snuggling it close. "That looks better. Daddy brought lots of blankets if you're still cold."

"I'm fine," Kurama managed to say around the steadfastly forming lump in his throat, "but thank you, Kai. You are far too kind, just like your father."

Beaming, the child reached up to pat the fox's shoulder in a surprisingly empathetic way for a seven year old. "Daddy said you're sick, and that big brother and me should help take care of you."

"Big brother and I," Kurama corrected automatically, paling at the mention of his state. Sick, indeed.

"Big brother and I, then, whatever!" The boy laughed a careless laugh, smiling up at the redhead very sweetly. "We're gonna take care of you, okay? So don't be sad! Turn that frown upside down!"

Kurama gulped down a few precious breaths of air to stave off any unsightly hysterics at this situation, whatever it was, before he mustered up the courage to smile back.

* * *

"I'm sorry again, about waking you," Yusuke said to Kurama some time later, after breakfast had been prepared. Sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of omelete and bacon in front of him, the redhead shook his head.

"As I said before, Yusuke, it's no trouble. I'll admit that I haven't had...guests in quite a while, but you and your sons are welcome here."

"That's not what you said the other day."

Thankful that the younger son had gone outside to fetch his older brother and Kuwabara, Kurama winced. He supposed he should also be thankful for Yusuke not bringing that day up in front of anyone - Kuwabara was especially perceptive, and would not miss the tremor in his hands, no matter how minute. "Not my finest moment, I know," he admitted. "I've apologized profusely since then."

Yusuke, at the kitchen counter plating more food, turned on him with pointed look, one that spoke of embarrassing tantrums and wholehearted threats to evict the Mazoku via plantlife. If he hadn't felt so weak at the time, Kurama might have actually gone through with it, too.

"I'll wager you realize why I was upset," the fox said, meeting that glare with an apologetic look of his own, "but just for the sake of clarity... _he_ is...not a part of my life at the present moment. He was right to tell you that it was of my own decision, but I did not order him away." Kurama swallowed thickly, the rising pain in his heart lodging in his throat. "I _did_ ask him to leave. I suppose in his eyes, that may very well be the same thing."

Yusuke watched him carefully. Surprise sparkled in those appraising eyes, like he couldn't quite believe the words his ears picked up.

Kurama couldn't even blame him. This was the most he'd spoken of his situation with Hiei in days, even after finding out about the fire apparition's lingering presence. He'd thrown a fit instead, cursing in some lost language of Makai and yelling at Yusuke to "get out, you aren't wanted here, any of you."

Of course, Yusuke had not left. Hadn't even batted an eyelash.

"I'll get out when you make me," he'd said, already in a defensive stance with both fists raised. "Come on, fox boy, show me what you've got."

Even drunk and bitter and hurting, Kurama hadn't been fool enough to try, and that had been that. Life went on. They managed to coexist, not without tension, but even so...the fox could admit that Yusuke's presence was something of a salve for his wounded soul.

"We'll finish this conversation later," promised Yusuke, just before the back door burst open to admit three more grumbling guests. "Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold."

Despite the harsh pain that accompanied them, the haggardly sighed words, "yes, mother" were absolutely worth the expression on Yusuke's beautiful face.

* * *

As all medically inclined people knew, healing took time. A broken bone could not be expected to mend overnight, nor could a broken mind.

Kurama knew this fact well. He'd been a healer himself, once upon a time, and a decent one at that. He'd nursed himself back from the brink of death so many times he'd lost count. He _defied_ death, flirted with it, but never crossed that intangible line into beyond where it waited patiently with open arms.

Yusuke, on the other hand, had never been a healer; only a fighter, stubborn to the very tips of his toes. He'd fought with Kurama many times over the past four days, pushing and poking and prodding when he'd very much rather be left to his own devices and allowed to drown in his misery.

Still, he thought as he quietly watched Yusuke and the children clean up after breakfast was over, it was nice to have a friend like him.

"What's in that cup?" said friend imquired as the tidying finished up, noticing Kurama's hands curled tightly around a colored mug.

Sipping demurely, Kurama declined to answer. He had no need to, for his fourth guest huffed from across the table.

"Relax, Urameshi," Kuwabara answered, "it's tea. I poured it for him."

By the furrowing of his brows, Kurama could tell Yusuke didn't quite accept their friend's words. But having no reason to distrust Kuwabara or his watchful eye, he said nothing more on the matter and resumed putting the final dishes away.

Taking another sip from his cup of 'tea,' the fox smiled to himself. Good to have such trusting friends indeed. The recently-emptied flask hidden in the pocket of his robes weighed heavily against his side, but he couldn't feel too bad about it.

After all, he told himself, he was still healing.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Hello, all. Bet you thought this story was dead (I did, too). But nope! Had part of this sitting in my files for months, and decided today to take a crack at fleshing it out and posting it.

I can't promise consistent updates, if I'm being honest, but I will say I do like this story and want to finish it. So take what you will of that. Thanks for reading, if you're still here.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Woohoo, I'm on a roll here, folks!

No trigger warning this chapter, but heavy on the angst again.

* * *

That night, after tucking his kids into their temporary beds, Yusuke stood in the kitchen, cordless phone cradled precariously between his shoulder and ear. He didn't trust it in his hands; they were clenched tight against his sides already, not even ten minutes into this conversation.

"He's fine without it," he insisted to Keiko, who was on the other end of the line, upset that she'd forgotten to pack their younger child's favorite stuffed toy. "Hasn't even noticed he doesn't have it. He's been kinda obsessed with Kurama, and having a new backyard to run around."

That was the truth, too. The more boisterious of his two sons had spent the day near about constantly glued to Kurama's side, happily chatting about school and his friends and his long journey from home to here with Kuwabara. He'd even managed to drag him outside to the garden, to show him his training routine. The fox put up with it, though Yusuke could tell he preferred the unassuming presence of Kenji, serious and surprisingly stoic for a nine year old child. Maybe he reminded him of Hiei, a little.

Keiko snatched him away from his thoughts when she said, scornfully, "I wish they didn't have to see him like that. They're too young." To her credit, she tried to keep the accusation from her voice, but he heard it anyway: _You brought them there._

"There isn't any choice, you know that. I have to be here, Keiko, and I'm not gonna leave them behind, either." Not when things between the two of them were so uncertain.

"It isn't your job to save everyone."

Her words, barbed with bitter poison, caught him off guard.

"What," he snarled, anger flaring up inside him of like a greasefire, "you'd rather I leave him alone out here to _die_? Is that really what you're saying to me right now?"

Her end of the line went quiet for a touch too long. He thought maybe she'd hung up, but eventually, with a tiredness that was palpable, she replied, " _no,_ of course not. I want him to get better just as much as you do. But Yusuke..."

He grunted inquisitvely. Better not to speak, when the words in his mouth felt like knives.

"We're already in a mess, you and I. I just worry, about the boys." Keiko's tone had softened, laced with nostalgic concern. It reminded him of times before this shitshow, when things were good. "And I worry about you, too. This is a lot for anyone to handle, and I'm afraid of what it'll do to you. If...it doesn't work out."

If he couldn't help him, she meant. If Kurama fell into the grave anyway, who had one foot in already, no matter how strong a grip Yusuke had on him.

He'd considered that possibility of course - it sat like bricks in his stomach any time he thought about it. He wasn't sure how he'd take it, all things considered, or even if he could.

But still, Yusuke Urameshi wasn't the type to give up in the face of death. Especially not when it was his friend's life on the line. "It won't come to that," he told Keiko, with a fierceness that surprised both of them. "I won't let it."

She hummed at him, though he could tell it wasn't in agreement. Her faith in him had waned over the years, chipped away by broken promises and empty words. This wasn't one of them - but she had no way of knowing that for certain.

So they said their goodbyes, with not a hint from either of them about when they'd speak next. Better that way, he figured, since with no expectations he didn't need to feel guilty about not meeting them.

"Sounded rough," a gravelly voice intoned. Kuwabara, who Yusuke hadn't noticed during his phone call, hovered near the edge of the kitchen, not quite passed the line that separated the living room carpet from the wooden tile Yusuke stood on.

Running a hand through his hair after setting the receiver down on the counter, Yusuke let out a ragged sigh. 'Rough' didn't even cover half of it - he considered trying to downplay it (like blaming it on that stupid duck Keiko forgot to pack), but Kuwabara knew him way too well. So he gestured to the kitchen table and they both sat; Kuwabara with his arms crossed tight, Yusuke with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands again. "You sure he's asleep right now?"

The other man nodded, once. "Out like a light as soon as his head hit the pillow. Snorin', too." Kuwabara sounded surprised about it.

It had surprised Yusuke as well; Kurama didn't seem like the type to snore, but he had every night so far during Yusuke's stay. Probably had something to do with the drinking - he knew a couple of people that only snored when drunk, most notably his mother and Chu.

 _Great_ , he brooded. _Even after watching him like a fucking hawk all day, he still finds ways to drink._

"Keiko's worried he won't make it, and that he'll drag me down with him," Yusuke admitted aloud, words slightly muffled by his hands still on his face. He removed them only after rubbing at his eyes a little bit, long enough to let Kuwabara stew over the gravity of what he'd said.

When their gazes met, Yusuke could see Keiko's worry reflected in Kuwabara's dark eyes. "I dunno, Urameshi. This is pretty bad. I've never seen anyone sink this low before, and I've met a lot of sad people." He didn't need to say that Yusuke held a spot on that list, probably near the top as of late.

"He's a fucking drama queen," Yusuke joked with no humor, face feeling like carved stone.

"He's _not_ though, don't even talk like that. You know how much he loved his mom, and he didn't even get the chance to try 'n save her. He's blamin' himself for somethin' he had no control over, and it's _killin_ ' him, so I don't wanna hear you even imply that this is his fault." It hurt a little, looking into the burning coals of Kuwabara's eyes as he spoke, but Yusuke found he couldn't look away. "I won't have it."

"Yeah, yeah," Yusuke sighed, "don't get your panties in a twist. I know it isn't his fault. I'm just tired." An understatement, to say the least.

His best friend's expression shifted, and suddenly he was sympathy personified. That hurt even more. "I understand, man. Wish I could do more for ya."

"I know you do, you big lug. But you're doing enough already, so don't worry about it."

Once Kuwabara left awhile later - after a bit of talk about Hiei, of all things, and some not-so-manly hugs that no one ever needed to know about - Yusuke made his way upstairs, ready to hit the hay for the night.

He didn't make it far, however.

As soon as he stepped into the hall after creeping up the stairs as softly as he could so as not to wake anyone, he heard a choked off sob coming from Kurama's room, the door to which was slightly ajar.

 _Fuck_ , he thought, a chill colder than any he could ever remember feeling before settling into his bones, _I can't handle this tonight_.

Probably he wouldn't know how to handle it ever, though a part of him had wanted this kind of break in Kurama since the beginning. Once he allowed himself to feel it, the true healing could begin. Yusuke had learned that for himself a few times over in the course of his life.

Too bad (and thank whatever god was listening) that the break wasn't as deep as he first thought. The fox wasn't even conscious. He learned that when he padded quietly into the room, and glimpsed a dark silhouette perched near the top edge of Kurama's bed, petting his hair. The moonlight pouring in from the window sparkled off the wetness on the redhead's face, but he didn't so much as sniffle again.

"How'd you get in?" Yusuke didn't even have the energy to sound surprised to see Hiei in here, comforting the fox in any way he could. He did keep his voice low, though as drunk as Yusuke figured Kurama was, it couldn't be too easy to wake him up.

"Your boy," Hiei answered, softer yet. "He heard him crying out in his sleep and summoned me. Let me in through his window."

"Kenji?" No way Kai was calm enough to pull this off without Yusuke noticing. Kid would've been bouncing off the walls.

"Yes. Smart for his age, and quiet, too." In the pale moonglow, Hiei's crimson eyes glowed like an animal's when they flashed his way. "Are you sure he's yours?"

Despite knowing better, Yusuke snorted. "Ha ha, very funny." A flash of teeth winked at him this time; a rare smile, which Yusuke felt no small amount of honor about receiving. "You're right, though, he is smart. But I'm wondering how he knew to call for you when I never even mentioned you were around."

"We spoke this morning."

Ah, so when Kuwabara and Kenji had been outside training before breakfast. The big idiot hadn't mentioned that.

"I heard what you said," Hiei mentioned abruptly, his hand stilling in Kurama's hair.

"Said a lot of things today; normal people do that, you know."

Now it was Hiei's turn to feign a laugh. A shame, really, when back in the day they used to share real ones; not often, but every once in a blue moon when they actually spent time together. It'd been years since he heard the sound of Hiei's real, genuine laughter. He found suddenly that he missed it.

"What your w..." Hiei uncharacteristically trailed off, though not from lack of attention. As soon as he'd spoken, Yusuke's eyes were on him, watching his normally impassive face twitch with unidentifiable emotion. "What _Keiko_ said, I suppose I should clarify. Which you repeated to Kuwabara. About dragging you down with him."

Yusuke's breath blew out of him like a bullet from the barrel of a gun.

"Don't let it happen, Yusuke." It was a demand, certainly not a request, and a fierce one at that - sharp, like Hiei's sword, right against his neck.

Swallowing hard, struggling to breathe, he shook his head. "I'm _not_ gonna let him - "

"No," Hiei interjected, "that isn't what I mean. I know that you'll protect him at all costs, no matter the toll it takes from you."

Yusuke frowned, well and truly puzzled. "Then what are you talking about?"

"Just what I said. Don't let him drag you down with him." Hiei had resumed stroking Kurama's hair at some point; Yusuke noticed when he followed the demon's gaze and landed on the redhead's sleeping face, still damp from tears. "He is cunning, even the way he is now. He will not hesitate to trick you, even manipulate you, depending on how set he is in what he wants."

"You're saying - "

"I'm saying that if he doesn't want to be saved, there will be no saving him."

The room spun around him; Yusuke felt faint, or like he was going to be sick, or like he would do both - like Kurama had, his first day here. "Why are you telling me this." Not a question, because he knew.

He knew before Hiei untangled his fingers from the fox's mane and moved from the bed. Before he walked over to Yusuke and stood next to him, shoulder to shoulder. Before his lips parted, and a soft hiss of air escaped - hestiation, then, because even though both of them knew what he wanted to say, it wasn't so easy to do it out loud.

A hand, as warm as a summer's day, brushed his arm for the smallest of moments; a ghost of a touch. "When he dies, Yusuke, you can't blame yourself. You'll only end up the same way."

Then Hiei disappeared from sight, leaving him cold again, with only the sleeping form of a man everyone already considered dead.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** If I titled these chapters I think this one would be called "Hard Feelings (and other appendages)." Because I'm subtle like that.

Trigger Warning: Kurama does start to have what I suppose you could call a panic attack, but it's brief.

* * *

"Have a drink with me," Kurama requested of Hiei on the night of his mother's funeral.

They'd just gotten back home after a long and exhausting day, and all Kurama wanted to do was unwind. Too many thoughts circled around in his head; an infinite loop of unanswerable questions swarming him like agitated wasps, painful and stinging. He couldn't seem to redirect himself no matter how hard he tried - and that in itself was unbearably annoying.

Hiei's reponse annoyed him, too: "I don't drink."

"Neither do I, as you well know." The words came out gritty and unfiltered. He frowned. "Tonight, however, I believe I will make an exception."

So off to the kitchen he went, extracting two clear glasses from the cupboard and an aged bottle of Makai liquor - a gift, though at the present moment he couldn't recall from whom, and didn't care to. He poured one drink, downed it in three long gulps despite the atrocious taste, then poured two more; another for himself, and one for Hiei.

"If you drink that fast, you'll black out."

Hiei had silently appeared behind him, apparently just to scold him. Luckily, the fox expected as much, so he didn't startle. "I'm aware," he snapped back, sipping at his second drink with a more modest pace. "Why don't you try yours? It's quite good." A lie, though it sounded like the truth. His always did.

"I don't drink."

"So you've said." Kurama picked up the second glass anyway, shifting his position to extend it to Hiei. "Though I think you've proven yourself capable of humoring me, which is something I'd hope you'd be inclined to do, tonight of all nights."

It was a risky thing to say, all things considered - outright manipulation, not subtle in the least. Hiei had been his partner for more than enough time to spot it, and recognize it as such. His outward expression didn't so much as twitch, Kurama noted, but Hiei snatched the glass with more force than necessary.

"Fine," he bit out, taking a tentative sip. His boyish nose scrunched in distaste, though it seemed he tolerated it well enough otherwise. "If you insist we drink this disgusting concoction, we will drink it comfortably. Go sit down on the couch."

Pleased at his partner's compliance, Kurama rewarded him with a chaste kiss before making his way over to the living room. The alcohol he'd guzzled had already hit his system hard; he'd made it about halfway there when he realized he'd forgotten something.

"Oh, and Hiei? Bring the bottle."

Later, after so many drinks Kurama could barely lift his head, Hiei carried him up the stairs and tucked him into bed.

"You hardly drank at all," Kurama complained once Hiei slipped under the covers as well, only after stripping away the suit Kurama had forced him into much earlier. He considered telling the demon he was proud of him for wearing it for so long, but the thought floated away from him before he could voice it.

Warm hands stroked at his hair; an action Hiei knew would lull him to sleep.

"I drank enough," he said, tone unusually soft. " _You_ drank too much. You wouldn't have made it up here had I not carried you."

Kurama made a noise of disagreement, too tired to speak anymore. Just as he thought, Hiei's ministrations had his eyes sliding shut, the velvet curtain of sleep closing in on him.

Before it claimed him, however, Hiei spoke again. "I'll always carry you, Kurama. I hope you know that."

Kurama smiled, but sleep took him before he'd thought to reply.

* * *

That night had marked the change within himself that still plagued him, even now.

He woke up groggy and disoriented, as per usual, but also deeply unsettled by the memory disguising itself as a dream. He could hardly be bothered to even open his eyes, let alone move, and he deliberated just going back to sleep for awhile whether or not his presence was expected downstairs.

Then a warm body shifted next to him, smelling of smoke and pine, and Kurama's eyes flew open wide, terrified of who he'd find next to him.

Only he realized, after seeing that it was Yusuke he shared his bed with, that the smell wasn't emanating from him. Or at least, not much of it.

His bedsheets smelled like Hiei. His _hair_ smelled like Hiei. The particular aroma of his jilted lover, a scent he'd indulged in a thousand times over, lingered in every corner of this room, prickling at his nose everytime he breathed. Kurama felt like it could drown him.

Panic frayed the edges of his mind, raw and fierce. He couldn't handle this; he didn't want to. Hiei had been here. Hiei had _touched_ him.

He turned violently and buried his face in Yusuke's shirtfront without a second thought, nose pressed tight against the fabric; a desperate attempt to focus on Yusuke's fragrance instead of the one haunting him.

"Wuzzhappenin'? K'rama?"

Body trembling, he didn't answer; wouldn't dare. He only pressed closer, greedily inhaling Yusuke's scent - heady and warm, like the man himself.

"Hey," Yusuke tried again, much more alert this time, "what's wrong? Another nightmare?" Arms encircled him, longer ones than he'd grown accustomed to, but the effect was similar. His heart rate slowed, and his breathing came easier. For just one blissful moment, he felt at ease - and then Yusuke started to pull away, taking those good feelings with him.

Kurama would not have it.

He near about jumped on the other man, slinging his leg around Yusuke's hip to keep him in place. Yusuke hands grabbed ahold of his waist, likely to steady him - in his haste he'd nearly flung himself over the edge of the bed. Both of them stared at the other in quiet surprise - although Kurama assumed his surprise differed a bit from Yusuke's.

After all, with their bodies joined together this way, it became very clear what Yusuke had been dreaming about before Kurama's rude interruption.

"Shit," said Yusuke, eloquent as always, "this isn't what it seems like."

What happened next could have been attributed to many things, such as Yusuke's comical expression of embarrassment, or Kurama's unhinged state of mind. Either way, the consequence was _laughter_. Kurama threw back his head and laughed until tears stung his eyes. He laughed until Yusuke, startled and concerned at first, joined him. The two of them shared the joy of laughter longer than the situation probably warranted; nevertheless, after it was over, Kurama felt infinitely better.

Mopping away the wetness from his eyes and grinning up at him widely, Yusuke tentatively inquired, "so...you're not mad?"

"I assume you're speaking of the more common definition, otherwise I fear the answer may be yes." He smiled when Yusuke's eyes flashed, dark with worry. "Relax, Yusuke, I'm only kidding. I do still own a sense of humor."

"Yeah, a fucked up one."

"Perhaps." The other man's sour face sobered him, and the sharp edges of guilt coalescing in his stomach sliced him clean through. He _was_ acting rather out of sorts; Yusuke must've been experiencing some serious emotional whiplash. Gentling his tone in an effort to convey an apology, Kurama said, "regardless of my poor taste in jokes, the answer to your question is no. Why on earth would I be angry with you?"

"Well," Yusuke's face flushed pink as he spoke, "I slept in your bed without permission, for one. And then there's..." He trailed off pointedly, which Kurama had no trouble interpreting - he still sat upon him, after all. "Y'know, so I thought maybe you'd be pissed."

Kurama regarded him uncertainly, lost somewhere between what Yusuke was saying and what he was not. The other man groaned in frustration, clearly having trouble expressing himself.

"It just seems kinda...damn it, I just - I don't want you to feel like I'm coming on to you while you're all vulnerable, okay?"

 _Oh_. He certainly hadn't expected that.

"It never crossed my mind to suspect that of you, I assure you." He meant to sound reassuring, but it came out sprinkled with bitterness. Deciding that it would be best to disentangle himself from the other at that point, the fox promptly did so. Yusuke looked confused at his aboutface, though a little relief was visible too. That only served to darken Kurama's mood further, which did not go unnoticed.

"...shit, what did I say?"

Kurama hummed inquisitively, reaching for his robe hanging from the bedpost.

"Now you really _do_ seem pissed."

Not an incorrect observation, albeit an oversimplified one. Kurama felt a many number of things as he stood and wrapped his robe around himself, anger being one of them. He just wasn't certain who it was aimed at - Yusuke or himself. Probably both.

Mostly, as he often did these days, he felt the unnamable sensation of wishing to not feel anything at all.

"Are you in need of the bathroom before I shower?" A redundant question, since there was also a bathroom downstairs Yusuke could use, but they both knew he asked it to end the conversation before a much different one could begin.

Yusuke almost fought him on it, Kurama could tell. Sympathy and frustration warred on his lovely face for a minute too long - it was awkward now, not how he intended the mood to fluctuate at all. Still, he said nothing, politely waiting for the other man to grunt a decidedly irritated "no," before he walked out.

As he strode quickly to the master bathroom, Kurama thought about the unavoidable fact that no matter how deep, the well of Yusuke's sympathy would inevitably run dry. One day, likely soon, his sympathy would give way to his anger, and he'd no longer back down when Kurama expressed any modicum of discomfort. There was no telling how unpleasant their conversations would become when that happened - best to be prepared.

Pitiful or not, the best method of preparation he could think of once he closed and locked the bathroom door was to open his medicine cabinet and be sure his hiding place hadn't been found, only after he turned on the water to muffle any unusual sounds that might have alerted his guests. Kurama filled the empty flask in the pocket of his robe first, then gulped straight from the bottle until nothing left of the emotional stormcloud hanging over his head remained.

* * *

When he finally shuffled down the stairs in search of breakfast after showering and dressing for the day, he found Yusuke and the boys in the kitchen, already partaking in their meal. He also found that Yusuke wasn't speaking to him. From the way he avoided eye contact once Kurama sat down at the table with his own plate to tuck into, he surmised he wouldn't look at him either.

So be it, he rationalized. Kurama could bear the tension. He could handle uncomfortable silences.

Kai, evidently, could not. He studied the two adults periodically as they all ate, displeasure obvious on his young face. It came as no surprise that he was first crack, reaching over to tug at his father's sleeve. "Dad, can we do training after breakfast?"

An innocent enough subject, but the child couldn't help the nervous delivery. Yusuke noticed it too, if the subtly tense line of his shoulders was any indication. "Dishes before training, kiddo," he reminded his son softly, "you know that."

Kai wilted but did not argue.

Seconds later, however, his older brother decided he wanted to save the day.

"I can do them," Kenji said, serious eyes turned on Yusuke. Kurama wondered if Yusuke ever looked at his eldest son and saw his reflection staring back at him; the resemblance was uncanny from his jet-black hair to his mahogany colored eyes. The only thing that didn't match was their personalities.

"All by yourself?"

"Uncle Kurama can help me." Three stares swung, then, casting him as the center of attention. "Right?"

The pointedness to his question forbade. Kurama wasn't keen on the idea of being alone with this child, not after that, but these were his guests. He'd been raised better than to decline a request, and such a simple one at that. "Of course, Kenji. I'd be delighted to."

The boy smiled at him in reply - an unnatural smile, much more calculated than genuine.

Kurama understood, because that's exactly how he smiled back.


	7. Interlude: Argue With a Tree

**Interlude: Argue With a Tree**

 **A/N:** Hiei loves trees. In this chapter, a tree loves Hiei too (I'm not kidding).

* * *

Sleep eluded Hiei that night, nestled high up in the branches of a tree - _his_ tree, though sixteen years ago when they moved in it had been little more than a sapling, sickened with decay. Hiei hadn't seen any difference in it from others they'd cut down as they trimmed the forest little by little, so he had reached for his sword.

"Not this one, Hiei," Kurama told him with a shake of his head. "Rotted though it may be, it's held onto life for much longer than it should have, stubborn little thing." He tended to it with soft hands, his powerful, earthy youki chasing away the rot.

"Will it grow, then?"

Kurama smiled at him, rivaling the sun with his warmth. "Yes. Your tree should grow well, given time and care."

Red eyes widened, fractionally. "Mine?"

"Yes, yours. Go ahead, say hello."

They'd argued a bit, then, over whether or not it was ridiculous to say hello to a tree. Kurama had reasoned that while no, it did not understand language, the plant was a living thing and soaked up energy from positive and negative auras alike. It was the intention that mattered. In the end, Hiei had caved, uttering a greeting to his little tree; it waved gently in return with the breeze.

As Hiei sat cradled in those branches under the moonlight that night, he finally recognized why Kurama had saved it all those years ago. He'd been alluding to himself. Stubbornly clinging to life had always been Kurama's specialty, after all.

The thought inflated a balloon of hope inside of him that stole his breath away painfully.

It hurt to hope. It hurt to believe. Hiei was not a man of blind faith - he discerned the lines of defeat decorating his lover's face, he recognized death's grip on his shoulders - yet despite not seeing any evidence to the contrary, a small part of him dared to hope, dared to believe, that Kurama would pull through, no matter what he'd told Yusuke just a few hours before.

"It would be easier to let him go," Hiei said aloud, though it wasn't necessary.

The aura underneath him hummed and vibrated like a plucked string. It did not speak in the traditional sense, but with his Jagan eye Hiei could assemble words that reflected the energy's inflections.

 _Perhaps it would be_ , the aura read. _But you are stronger than that, yes?_

The fire demon sighed, palming his face in one hand. "It hardly matters how strong I am," he spat out through clenched fangs. The words tasted like ash in his mouth. "Kurama won't lean on me for support. He won't lean on anyone. How can we help him if he won't allow us to?"

 _Be patient, young demon, and have faith. Next time you see him, do not speak to him with words. Speak to him with your feelings, as you do with me._

Hiei's reflex was to scoff at the sentimentality. "Feelings are useless," he argued. "They only get in the way. Besides, he won't listen. He's determined to shut me out, probably in hopes that I'll move on rather than watch him die."

 _Show him that you will not, then. Do not give up. Your feelings are much more powerful than you give them credit for._

"Fine, maybe I'll try it." He didn't have anything to lose, anyway, and he was not going to sit here and argue with a tree all night.

 _Good_ , the aura of his tree said, glowing with approval. _Now get to sleep, friend. I will alert you of his waking._

With no small amount of gratitude, Hiei did as told and settled in, eyes closed. He fed the aura beneath him with a small amount of energy in return for the comfort.

His tree hummed a lullaby in its energy, and Hiei fell fast asleep.

* * *

The sun hovered well above the horizon when a mind reached out in search of him.

Hiei had been awake for about two hours, if he had to hazard a guess. Long enough to feel Kurama's energy spiral wildy from one spectrum of emotion to the next, which admittedly worried him quite a bit. He'd been teetering on the edge for awhile now, but never before had he seemed so unhinged. Obviously he was losing control of himself, whether he realized it or not.

Kenji seemed to notice it too. Once Hiei established a connection between the planes of their minds, the boy relayed, 'he isn't looking too good, Uncle Hiei. And my dad isn't talking to him.'

That made sense, Hiei supposed. He hadn't listened in on their earlier conversation, but Yusuke's energy had reflected a deeply bitter anger afterwards.

Smart as he was, Hiei didn't intend to mention these revelations to the child. 'I see. Is he eating, at least?'

'Yes, he's eating.' A wave of worry washed over him along Kenji's next shared thoughts. 'Uncle Kazuma said yesterday that his face is a little more filled out than the last time he saw him, so he must be keeping it down, right? Even though he's drinking a lot?'

Too smart, this boy.

'Did your father tell you of that?' Hiei couldn't say he approved; dragging them out here was bad enough, though at least Hiei understood that. There was no reason to burden them with the fox's addiction as well.

'No, of course not,' Kenji answered, vehement in his father's defense. 'He hasn't said anything about it. He only told us that Uncle Kurama is sick.'

Kurama _was_ sick - in mind, body and heart - with grief.

'Then how do you know about the drinking?'

'I've seen him pour it into his tea when he thinks no one's looking. He's more worried about my dad seeing, I think, and Kai too.' Hiei grit his teeth, angry that the fox could be so careless, especially with Yusuke's children around. 'It smells bad, like the stuff Grandma drinks. I'm not dumb. I know what it is. I know that it's bad.'

'So you understand the gravity of the situation,' Hiei replied, nearly impressed. 'Have you told Yusuke about it?'

Kenji stopped replying, seemingly distracted. Then, when he finally answered, he threw Hiei for a loop. 'How much can you hear with your Jagan eye, Uncle Hiei?' When he didn't answer, Kenji pressed. 'If you're in my head, can you hear who I'm talking to and what about?'

'Yes," he replied, confused. 'Why?'

'Just give me about ten minutes, and you'll see.'

No matter how much he asked after that, Kenji wouldn't budge - he refused to explain further than 'you'll see.' Hiei did not appreciate that, but also could not bring himself to turn over the child's every thought like stones in a river just to get an explanation from him. Kenji's mind was calm, he noticed, at least as far as human children went. He didn't want to upset his level headedness over such petty reasoning.

When the conversation he was supposed to be listening to started, the words came in crystal clear, as though he stood right there between the two. Along with the calm, the boy's mind was very open; he could see what Kenji saw as his brain processed it. The sink full of dishes in front of him wasn't very interesting, but when he slanted his eyes to stare sidelong at the person next to him, Hiei's stomach roiled.

True to what Kenji had said, the fox looked miserable and frail - slumped shoulders and hooded eyes galore. He wore a smile on those full lips, but the two people regarding him (albeit one secretly) could tell that it rang no genuine note.

"Thanks again, for helping me," said the boy, filling up the empty basin with hot water and scented soap to begin the washing process. Even without to mental connection confirming it, Hiei knew the smell of that soap to be light and citrus scented, like freshly sliced oranges. It made his stomach clench to think about.

Thankfully, Kurama chose to snatch him away from such musings a second later with his smooth tenor voice. "It's really no trouble. This is my home, and you are my guest. If anything, I should be the one thanking you."

"Me?" The boy chirped, stopping in the middle of washing a dish to regard the adult owlishly. "For what?" Hiei almost chuckled out loud at the child's bluntness.

Kurama found it amusing as well, if Hiei read him right. The tension of his profile lessened to a degree that probably only he could notice. His smile tilted wider, warming his whole face - a real one, if only slight. The sight made Hiei's blood sing hotly.

"For your kindness, firstly," Kurama said, taking each dish the boy handed to him carefully, as though it might break in his hands. He rinsed off the suds under hot water before grabbing for the clean white rag next to the sink. using it to dry off the dish and set it aside. "Your parents are very kind people, so it's to no surprise that you'd take after them. Even still, I appreciate it."

Kenji shrugged, humbled by the praise. "I haven't really done anything. Dishes aren't hard."

"No, but it is still a kindness to do them with me, just as it is a kindness for you to stay here. It must be strange, living away from the home you know. You're very brave."

Hiei flushed darkly, not at all liking where Kurama's tone was steering this.

Kenji seemed unsure as well, hunching slightly under the fox's attention. "It's only on the weekends, Uncle Kurama. Besides, my dad's here." He spoke with reservation then, not certain he should say it but realizing Kurama had to know as much. "I don't really have a choice."

Kurama hummed in disagreement, rinsing. and drying more dishes. "Surely you do. Your father would not ask this of you, if you were to express any discomfort in the matter."

"There's no discomfort to express," the boy replied, soft voice gliding over even the bigger words with confidence. "I like it here."

"What of your friends? Aren't they going to miss you while you're away every weekend? Won't you miss them?"

Hiei's mouth ran dry as Kenji frowned, both of them annoyed at Kurama's needling questions. It was obvious he was attempting to persuade Kenji into no longer staying here, and while Hiei agreed that this wasn't the right environment for children, it was hardly appropriate to manipulate one into staying away.

He needn't have concerned himself, though. Kenji seemed every bit as stubborn and defiant as his father when he said, "Don't you miss Uncle Hiei?"

The answering silence may have smothered said demon, if he'd been present in the room. Kurama's face, when Kenji glanced, had turned to stone.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Kurama. That was a stupid question." Before the fox could so much as open his mouth to accept the apology, Kenji went on to say, with such casuality it was enviable, "I know you miss him because I heard you crying for him in your sleep last night."

Glass scraped across Hiei's insides, cutting him jagged and raw.

"That is not your concern," Kurama snapped, fingers clenched dangerously around a freshly washed glass. "Nor is it your business to speak about. I expect a _real_ apology, when you are ready to give it."

Kenji nodded sagely. "I _am_ sorry, but I think you need to hear this."

"You're a child," Kurama said, struggling to regain control over the rage in his voice. "What could I possibly need to hear from you?"

"You need to hear that it makes me sad to see you push everyone away." He'd been staring at the few remaining dishes left in the sink, but then Kenji inclined his head to observe the fox head-on, allowing Hiei to read Kurama's expressions. Right now it was alight with a mix of fury and horror. "You pushed away Uncle Hiei, and Uncle Kazuma. You're even trying to push away my dad, too, only my dad is too stubborn to let you. You're hurting him a lot. All of them."

Hiei's head spun. He felt sick. He never should have allowed this to go on.

Kurama's face, normally so calm and controlled, had pinched in agony. His whole body trembled. Those brilliant eyes, while carefully blank earlier, were now filled with a hundred different shades of emotion, which he could no longer hide. They were also brimming with unshed tears.

Hiei's demonic heart fluttered in his chest. In all the time knowing him, he'd never once seen Kurama cry.

* * *

 **NOTES:**

The title of this interlude comes from the song "Weight of the World" by Blue October, which I highly recommend listening to, not only because it's good, but because the lyrics (to me) really reflect how I think Kurama feels in this story.

About the tree bit - it was probably super weird, but I've seen people write Kurama as being able to talk to plants or at least understand them, so i just went with it. The tree is not a demon, but I imagined after being fed their demon energy after so many years, especially Kurama's, it would develop a slight demonic aura of its own which it uses to communicate with them.

Anyway, sorry for the POV switch up this chapter. I really didn't intend to write pov interludes but by the end of last chapter, I already knew I was going to write this one, mostly because I want to stick to short chapters and it was the best way to fit in Kenji's conversation with Kenji while at the same time giving you guys a peek into what Hiei's going through. I hope I did it the justice I wanted to. Was anyone surprised at Kenji and his boldness?

Lastly, thank you to everyone who followed and reviewed the last few chapters. It means a lot to know that people are still liking this after it being abandoned for so long.

Until next time!


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